


Share the womb Share the flesh

by EdenMiasma



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Graphic Description, M/M, Minor Character Death, Obsession, Protective Siblings, Rape, Troy is fucked up, Tyreen is an enabler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 06:57:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18751324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdenMiasma/pseuds/EdenMiasma
Summary: Troy loves Tyreen, in what way? he doesnt quite know.but that doesnt stop him from feeling the agonising jealousy when she spends time without him. When she brings people home to take to bed.Troy cant help himself but to react.





	Share the womb Share the flesh

**Author's Note:**

> Warning. 
> 
> This is dark. Graphic description of rape, the scene is short, but its there.

From the very beginning they were destined to be as one. 

 

He likes to make jokes about it sometimes,  _ “I used to be her left arm till I split off and grew my own body” “she tried to eat me in the womb” “this scar on my hip was from the separation surgery”  _ because of course, there's always a little mystery when it comes to the biological mystery of ‘where babies come from’, and worse yet when talking about twins.

 

But somewhere in the back of his mind is the little tickle, like tiny fingers running through the scruff of his hair, that whisper the remnants of thoughts and memories he’s sure are not his own. It’s like a piece of Tyreen resides in him, and a piece of himself is inside of her. 

 

_ “Were telepathic”  _

 

He’d said in jest a few times. It was true though, almost. She catches his gaze and  _ somehow _ the exact same thing is on their mind, She passes him whatever gun or sword he’s looking for without even asking, and she always  _ always  _ knows exactly what he’s craving when the late work makes his stomach start to growl. 

 

Troy can feel when she’s getting tired, or grumpy, or when she’s in need of a good cuddle but she’s always a little deeper in his mind than he could ever be in hers. Probably her confusing ethereal Siren powers or someshit, but the feeling he gets when they just  _ do the twin thing _ was so warm and satisfying in his chest. It lets him feel like he’s part of something bigger, of something  _ whole _ , like he was any bit as powerful as Tyreen herself.

 

Sometimes he wishes he could just crawl into her skin and sleep peacefully beneath the blanket of such strength. 

 

So it goes without saying that they were  _ close _ .

 

\-------

 

A second pair of hands is usually necessary for this kind of repair, his robotic prosthesis had many incredibly small screws and little nooks and crannies to fit your hand into just to dislodge a single piston, and there’s no one he could lower his guard to quite like Ty. 

 

He watches from over her shoulder, giving directions as simplified as he can.

 

“Ok now take the blue thing there and tug it till it comes loose” 

 

She does as told, the a wire grasped between her sharp little fingers and pulled till he feels a pressure release in the remnants of his right shoulder. Troy can’t help but to drawl out a pleased sigh because  _ fuck  _ that’s been paining him for the past few days.

 

“Now what?” she asks, a tone that borders on irritation but he knows that’s just her strange habit of inflection. 

 

“There’s a new blue thing, you gotta twist the wire bits up here to the other wire bits” he points to the small opening between steel tendrils that his two fingers were just too big to fit in. A quick learner she is, and her nimble digits rewire the internal motor that gave him the ability to bend his elbow. As soon as the wires hooked around each other and the little spark of light shot down the length of his arm he feels the tension seep back into his shoulder, only more precise, less painful, like he had a 100 pound weight hanging off his right side and  _ oh wait yeah. _

 

Slow reworkings, bending his thumb, then fingers, then a flex of his wrist, the gears turned and small turbines whirred back to life. The circuital veins hummed in tandem with the generator embedded in his right pectoral and once again he feels the harmony between flesh and fibreglass, and steel, so much steel.

 

“Thanks babe” Troy gives Ty a solid pat on the back with his  _ flesh arm _ . Her praise is received well, despite her unchanged expression, she buzzed with the energy of satisfaction that she carried in the swing of her hips as she dismounted their workshop table and sauntered back into their cluttered living space. 

 

Decoration is everything in here, their ostentatious jackets becoming part of the drapery that blocked out the suns rays through the dingy rusted metal window, scraps of metal that Troy finds interesting, the remains of guns far too old to use, a coffee table piled with soda cans assembled in a perfect pyramid. If no one knew better they’d assume his place belonged to a child rather than two dysfunctional adults. 

 

Tyreen turns on the ceiling fan as she wriggles out of her torn up jeans while Troy batters their television till the fuzzy image becomes clear. It’s more news propaganda, shit they don’t care for, and he toggles the channels till something more interesting shows on screen, something like a cooking show only they're making explosives. That's quite up Tyreen’s alley.

 

He lays himself across the entirety of the couch, a three seater that can barely fit his massiveness, and in an attempt to challenge he gives Ty his famous shit eating grin as if to say “just try to get me to move, i dare ya”. 

 

There was always that kind of playful bickering, a sibling rivalry, they’d given each other their fair share of scars, but this time feels very off. The look she gives him, that tingle in the back of his head, something doesnt add up. Her eyes drift down his exposed chest and the tingle becomes a scratch, not one of annoyance but a more confusing feeling.

 

Still he sits, and waits, and waits. Till Tyreen sits herself square on his sternum and doesnt move till the show is over.

 

* * *

 

Another twin concept Troy has come to understand is the simple “twins share everything”.

 

Because in this economy do they really have a choice? Most of what they’d owned growing up were scavenged pieces, salvaged materials haphazardly sewn together, or hand-me-downs from bandits who took pity on the scrappy duo. So it wasn’t  _ too weird _ that they would drink from the same flask, or sleep in the same bed, or even use the same toothbrush.

 

Because what need was there to keep yourself separate when you are one half of a whole?

 

_ Or maybe one tenth of a whole.  _

 

What was weird was when Tyreen started  _ seeing people. _ Started leaving the den without him, when things that were once  _ theirs _ became just  _ hers  _ and  _ his.  _ Ty made friends while Troy stayed home and optimised his artificial limb. Ty came home with money while Troy stayed home and upgraded their weapons.

 

And then Tyreen  _ came home with someone _ .

 

He froze in place, lounging on the couch, while she invited this stranger into the den for a drink. He was some faceless, worthless, low level bandit, he was only just a few centimeters taller than Ty but lacked all things muscle, He looked like he’d give way under the weight of his weapon. 

 

Troy bit his tongue, because that’s his sister in there, living a life and having fun  _ without him _ , so he turns the volume on the TV up and ignores the bell like laugh he’s never heard before ring around the kitchen. Not a real laugh, just something fake.

 

The real Ty snorts, the real Ty laughs from her stomach till she cries. His bite sinks deeper while his sister parades this mask with the obvious intent for copulation.

 

She makes many acquaintances, she wants  _ something _ that she just can’t seem to find, but he’s never seen the same face more than once. As every new person makes the walk of shame out of  _ their  _ bedroom he fixes them with a new cutting remark before they scurry out of the door. 

 

He has every right to be mad at these people, after all they were banging his sister and,  _ taking her away from him _ at the same time. It was only an issue when it translated to violence. The first time he’d kicked someone literally out the front door was a rush of satisfaction, like  _ defending his turf.  _

 

The displays of dominance became more and more intense as things progressed, especially when faces became familiar and the risk continued to grow. Would she move on from the homelife they’ve built for themselves? Would she find someone  _ better _ ? He will make sure these people don’t want to return.

 

The first was a self identified ‘general’ who didnt know shit about military positions, granted Troy didnt either, but he never called himself a ‘ _ general’.  _ She looked almost smug when she came into the small kitchenette and had the fucking  _ audacity _ to use his coffee mug.

 

In a snapped chance he wrapped a large metallic hand around her bony little hips and pinned her against the countertop, bringing himself much too close to comfort, so much so that he could  _ smell _ the sex of his sister on this foreign woman’s skin. It was heady, and sweet, but overwhelmed by the putrid sweat on the generals body.  _ Disgusting.  _

 

She cried out weakly as Troy forces his body up against hers, his mind going blank but for key directives that drive his motions. Dominate, Destroy, Protect, O̶̢̾b̸̭̻̳̊ë̴̜̗̙̭̩́̕y̵̧̥̮̪̋̍, Dominate. The woman is no more than a crumpled mass when he comes to, in the shaking arms of Tyreen, he feels her anxious hands skitter over the skin of his face in a panic till she recognises his finally open eyes.

 

“Troy, oh my god” she starts “what did she do to you? Dont move I-I’ll get our med pack”

 

She scurries out of sight for just a moment before returning with their home-decorated toolbox full of insta-health syringes, bandaids, and covered in stickers. She wipes blood from his face that he doesn't remember getting the wound for, but his skin burns all the same when she dabs it with rubbing alcohol. 

 

He can’t remember shit, but from the corner of his eye he sees the backwards head of  _ the general  _ in a pool of blood, the shattered remains of his coffee mug, among other utensils and broken ceramic on the floor. 

 

…  _ what the fuck happened.  _

 

The next one was worse. He wasn’t a familiar face, but an annoying one. What man has the gall to sit next to you and gloat about fucking your sister right after the fact? Troy doesn't say anything but, merely glares in his direction before turning the volume up on the TV in a passive aggressive way to say “shut the hell up”.

 

They sit in an uncomfortable silence for what feels like hours, but given the advertisement break had only just finished it had sadly only been about ten minutes. Tyreen emerges from the bedroom cleanly dressed again, clipping her pistol to her hip. 

 

She sends a parting glance to her past bed partner before locking eyes with Troy and his heart flutters with something familiar and dark.

 

“I got a message that my recording equipment is ready to pick up! I’ll be back in like an hour, mind if I take our bike?” she asks.

 

“Want me to come with?” he replies, he’d beg her if he could, to not leave him here with this stranger. 

 

“Ill be fine, it’s just over the other side of the compound”

 

_ Im not worried about you im worried about ME!  _

 

She parts with a chaste kiss to the side of his head, her small affections letting his mind settle in a stubborn “ok  _ fine _ its only an hour, ill survive”.  Its only once shes bounced out of the den that the absolute  _ asshole  _ to his left decides to speak again.

 

“So you an’ her like… fucking?”

 

Troy clenches his teeth so hard he thinks he feels something snap.

 

“what. was. that?”

 

“Y’know, are you and Tyreen a thing?”

 

“What do you mean  _ ‘a thing’ _ shes my sister!” 

 

The man holds up his hands in jest while the gears in Troys arm whirr with the force of his clenched fist. Did this sick fuck really think he would be so depraved? He’d never disrespect Ty like that, she was a queen, she was a  _ goddess _ , which is why he was so  _ pissed _ she would let people so lowly into bed with her.

 

_ That bed is for just me and her. JUST ME AND HER _ . 

 

“Im just saying, she’s an a’right root im surprised you haven't given ‘er a go” 

 

No thought process follows him, nothing eloquent at least, when his fist meets the clammy skin of this insignificant termite of a man. A few teeth tumble out and the intricate red vines of his left arm burn in virulent irritance, it felt  _ good _ , and it felt  _ better than good _ when his prosthesis wraps around the weak torso of the man and slams him through the coffee table.

 

_ Dominate, obey, destroy.  _

 

The man tries to throw a punch back, flailing pathetically, and the hand around his ribs squeeze. He feels them pop, one by one like bubblewrap, its satisfying in such a sick pleasing way. “Dont tell me you think she actually  _ likes _ you, that you are on the same level as us?” Troy mocks him, relinquishing his grasp. The man wheezes, hands coming to shield his crumpled midsection as a trail of blood trickles from the edge of his mouth.

 

“You think youre  _ worthy _ of the affections of a  _ God?”  _ Troy brings his left hand down again to deliver another precise strike to his nose. “She won’t even remember you, youre a replaceable, useless little scav, only good for a sub-par fuck”

 

_ Dominate, D̶o̷m̶i̴n̶a̷t̴e̸, D̸̝͂̈̈́ǫ̷͚̱͂͒ṁ̸͚i̶̻̟̻̐͌̂n̸̩̪͕̕a̶̠̒̆t̶͖̞͂͌ͅê̷̖͔͎̽͂ _

 

The burning continues, like red hot fire injected into his veins. It fucking hurts but drives the adrenaline through his blood that blurred the edges of his vision and he just doesnt want to let this little punching bag go.

 

“Only good for a sub-par fuck” he repeats.

 

Metal hand grabbing the mans leg and throwing him again, this time against the furthest wall where he falls into a crumpled pile, still wheezing, still spitting his blood on the aged wallpaper. The sentence is left hanging in the air between them as Troy stands and approaches him, hes trying to crawl away with an arm wrapped around his ribs, poor man, karma is a cruel bitch. 

 

The khaki workers pants come off the weaker mans body easy, its like no-one around these parts wear a belt, probably because Ty has bought them all. But he appreciates the ease. The man is sobbing below him when he takes his surprisingly hard cock in hand, the adrenaline arousing him more than anything else because theres no way in hell this nameless, pathetic whelp could do anything to him.

 

“No no no please no” the weak pleading lands on uncaring ears. This wasnt for  _ him _ , this was a display, this was teaching him a fucking  _ lesson _ , you want Ty? Well, you cant have her without Troy, and Troy is not one to share. 

 

Troy lines himself up with the mans asshole and forces his way in, the man howls a cry of agony while troy grits his teeth. Its a tight fucking fit, but theres already a sheen of red blood sticking to his skin that give a tacky but efficient lubrication for him. He fucks into him like an animal, ill experienced and rightly  _ pissed,  _ huffing rugged grunts every time he feels the mans body spasm in pain beneath him. 

 

It’s a messy ordeal. But damn if it wasn’t satisfying.

 

His thrusts pick up pace so soon, but the tingling down his spine was much too pleasant to ignore, and soon he is spilling his seed deep inside this man with a sigh. His mind rode a high hes never had quite before, much better than anything hed smoked or taken before, part of him wants to do it again and again and again till all he can feel is the satiated weight of his body post-orgasm. 

 

He withdraws from the man, his body falling limp to the floor once more. He was unconscious, unfortunate, because he’d love to spit in his face one last time. Troy makes his way to the bathroom to wash off the blood and semen from his cock, taking a  _ health now!  _ From the medicine cabinet to finish off the disgusting weasel in his livingroom.

 

Hes injected, and within a few minutes the man wakes up, eyes full of absolute terror amidst his dried tear stains and blood. 

 

“Have we learned a lesson today?” Troy asks him mockingly.

 

The man just whimpers. 

 

_ Good _ .

 

Troy grabs him by the arm and hauls him to his feet, his pants still around his ankles, tripping over himself as hes led to the front door again. The grip tightens. “You tell everyone you meet what happened today. You let them know what happens when they try and fuck my sister. Let them know whats waiting for them when they dare touch what's  _ mine _ ” 

 

Another whimper. Pathetic. And hes thrown on his ass outside.

 

Troy takes a lot of pleasure watching the snivelling man hike his pants up and limp his way into the distance.

  
  


* * *

 

 

Tyreen returns about 10 minutes over an hour and an edge that had been strangling Troy finally slips away, of course she’d come home, why wouldn't she?

 

she comes inside hauling a box full of electrical equipment with a bright excited smile on her adorable face. “Look Look Look! Its all here! My streaming equipment!” she bounces on the spot, jostling the wires and cheap plastic within. He returns her grin in earnest.    
  
“Lets get this shit set up!” he replies.

  
  
  


She doesn't even mention the absence of her bed partner. Nor the broken coffee table. Or the new bloodstains on the wall. And Troy is satisfied knowing she couldnt care less about what happened to the man. 

**Author's Note:**

> yeet


End file.
